


Redemption

by Heartensoul



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24228475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heartensoul/pseuds/Heartensoul
Summary: A small, introspective piece of Katara's thoughts when Zuko shows up at camp. Written prior to season 3, so there are clear deviations from canon.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

Redemption  
Rating: PG  
Notes: A repost of my first dip into the Avatar fandom. A small piece written of what I thought may come to pass when Zuko finally met up with the Aang gang at the start of season 3. Clearly some deviation from canon now that the series is complete.

\-----

Right now he's sitting quietly shackled in a contraption of her brother's making. Said brother is also standing guard near the Fire Nation prince and making faces that he likely intends to look intimidating but only make him look like he's in dire need of a bathroom.

Katara offered him the hardest glare she could manage as he was brought past her during his capture earlier. Really! To show up in his stupid balloon after all he had done, all they had suffered because of him, and he tells them he has come to join them, no explanation at all. It was ridiculous! 

Those had been the thoughts that had been rotating in her mind for the last couple of hours. But as the night wears on and she watches Sokka continue to make faces at Zuko, the more she thinks about it. About how he had not shown himself until nightfall, when he was most vulnerable and he knew she would be at her strongest. How he had not come announcing himself and fighting, which seemed more his fighting style than sneak attacks. How useful he could be if he would teach Aang fire-bending..not to mention the knowledge he had of the Fire Kingdom itself.

Of course, her mind reminds her, it can be a new tactic, another trap to get a hold of Aang. She had trusted Zuko's words before and he had betrayed her...them. No, she would not believe him this time.

Unable to sleep anyway, she pulls herself off the ground and enters the area where Sokka and Zuko are staring at each other. 

"Go to bed, Sokka, you're making weird faces. I'll watch him for awhile," she tells her brother in a tone that does not leave much room for argument. Sokka sighs, his distraction taken away from him, and allows her to take over his spot. She is the strongest of the group at this point, with the moon shining overhead and the endless supply of water surrounding them. Sokka leaves wordlessly, not to sleep, but to think of things he knows will torment him until the next time he enters the Fire Nation's boundaries. 

She waits until Sokka is tucked beside Appa's fur to speak. "I don't believe you," she declares, glaring much in the same way she had earlier.

"I don't expect any of you to, least of all you. Not right away."

His voice is surprisingly soft when there isn't anger in it, and she recalls the only other time she has heard him sound like that. She was so quick to believe him then; she would be much more careful this time. But just maybe he really has come to help them out this second time, much like Jet had--

No, don't do that, her mind tells her. Don't think about Jet and don't make that comparison. Not yet.

"You'll have to prove it," she tells him simply. 

"I will," he tells her just as assuredly, and that seems to satisfy both of them for the time being. There is the willingness of a second chance so long as it is earned.

Their peace said, they lapse into silence once again, awaiting to see what the coming days will bring.


	2. Art

“So how does it look?”

“Um…” she could hear the restraint in Aang’s voice. He was trying not to laugh. “Is it supposed to sort of look like a cow?”

“It looks beautiful,” her brother and the artist of the work on her back proclaimed. And his assurance was all she needed to confirm her suspicions. It probably did look like a cow.

Since they have decided to go into the Fire Nation to see the play (she still wasn’t sure what the point of it was, but would let Sokka have his fun,) she pulled out their Fire Nation disguises and let them air out for a few hours. When the musty smell had gone away, she shed her clothes and put on the red outfit she had worn, the dark cloth hugging her curves like a second skin. She would never say it aloud, but liked the outfit—how it looked on her, not what it represented.

They thought they were ready to go once dressed, but Zuko informed them that since they were entering a national theater, they were expected to wear the national emblem of the flames along any revealing flesh (he then went into a long explanation as to why—something about solidarity—but the rest of them didn’t care much about the Fire Nation’s strange fetishes.)

Using some of the supplies they had on hand, Zuko had concocted a mix that would serve as paint and they had covered the tops of their hands with the emblem and drawn swirling lines of smoke up their arms. They had thought they were finished when Zuko was kind enough to point out that Katara’s midriff was exposed and would need to be painted on either her abdomen or lower back. Since Toph was blind and the rest of the group were male, Katara had relied on her brother to be her artist. But apparently all her brother could draw on her were cows, not fire signs.

“I’ll just do it myself,” she muttered darkly, ripping the paint bowl from Sokka’s hands and walking away before Aang could offer his services. Why did Toph have to be blind? It made instances like those so difficult to manage.

She walked down to the water fountain at the entrance of the temple, intent on washing away her brother’s mess before drawing the emblem herself. It couldn’t be that hard to draw a stupid fire symbol, right? She placed the bowl down beside her and outstretched her hands, welcoming a small orb of water between her open palms.

“Is that a cow?” she heard Zuko question from behind her, and her eyes rolled skyward in annoyance.

“No, just Sokka’s poor attempt at art. “ She forced the water to stretch lengthwise and brought it around her back like a wrung towel, manipulating the liquid back and forth with both hands until she thought the paint would be washed off.

“Is it gone?” she asked, looking over her shoulder. She could see him walking up from behind her in her peripheral vision and wondered why he needed to be so close to examine it. 

“Yes,” he finally said, and her eyes followed as he leaned down to capture the abandoned paint bowl that had been at her side. “Here, let me.”

Before she could protest, she felt two fingers covered in paint touch the small of her back and begin to slide against her skin. Her spine arched in reaction to the light, almost tickling touches that suddenly paused at her movement. Zuko’s other arm reached around her, his palm settling on her stomach to hold her still. Her stomach fluttered at that touch, and he continued his work with slow movements until he had completed the emblem. She let out a breath when he completed the shape of the fire, believing him to be done, which caused an audible intake of breath when he suddenly began tracing a swirl of smoke directly up the line of her spine.

He was finished a moment later, the feel of his fingers disappearing and his hand lingering along her skin for a short travel toward her hip before it dropped back to safety again.

“All finished.” He sounded much closer now, as though he was only inches from her ear, but she didn’t turn around. She felt the air shift as he finally backed away from her. Knowing he couldn’t see, she closed her eyes and allowed herself a long, calming breath.

“Thank you.” But the words were spoken to an empty room.


End file.
